


sing me to sleep

by placeless



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Heartbreak, M/M, Third Wheel, i feel bad for jon, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4475333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placeless/pseuds/placeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jon hadn't meant to fall in love with spencer - he just had. and now he regrets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sing me to sleep

william is standing in front of him, lanky arms behind his back. he’s nervous — jon can tell. “i… i think we should break up.”

he blinks, staring at his boyfriend. his mouth goes dry as he asks, “why?”

“it just isn’t working out,” he says, before gesturing helplessly between the two of them. “ _it_ being _us._ ”

jon bites his lip. the last break-up he had to deal with was greta, and that was more or less mutual. he didn’t want to break up with william, though. this wouldn’t be as easy. “can’t we just work it out?” he asks. he knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn’t care.

william shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “i think it’d be best to just leave it like this.” then he turns and leaves, hands shoved into his pockets.

for awhile, jon just stands there, not sure what to do. eventually, he, too, walks away, a new feeling of numbness enveloping him.

outside the university hall, the air is cold and misty. jon thinks that it’s very fitting for the mood that he’s in. he walks down the street, thoughts clouding his mind. thoughts of heartbreak and misery; thoughts of _was it worth it?_ and _what now?_

he’s taken out of his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice calling from behind him.

“hey, you dropped this!” it shouts, but he doubts they’re talking to him. however, when the footsteps get nearer and the shouts louder, he turns around.

a man stops in front of him, panting. “you — you dropped your phone,” he says, reaching his hand out. in it, sits the small electronic. “i thought you might want it back.”

he stares at his phone, surprised, before taking it and stuffing it in his pocket. looking up at the man, he bites his lip. he’s cute, with chestnut hair and baby blue eyes. “thanks.”

the stranger smiles warmly, and says, “no problem.” he pauses, before saying, “i’m spencer.”

he blinks, before realising that he should introduce himself, too. “i’m jon.”

spencer looks at him for awhile before finally saying, “it was nice meeting you,” and turning away.

jon watches him go, before turning around, too, a collection of new thoughts to fill his mind.

/

the next week, jon is still wallowing in self-pity from the breakup. it’s only after tom comes around and announces that he _‘reeks of dead fish and broken hearts’_ that he drags himself out of his bedroom to take a shower.

when he realises that he has practically depleted his food collection, he lazily pulls on an old pair of jeans and a definitely unclean shirt. ten minutes later, he’s walking around the store, gathering the various things he needs.

he gets to the checkout counter and there’s only one person in front of him — it’s an old lady who smells of strong perfume and wet cat. putting the food on the conveyor belt, he waits until it’s his turn before stepping up, hand searching for his credit card from his wallet.

“jon?” a surprised voice asks, and he looks up, confused for a second before realising that spencer, the man who’d given him back his phone, is standing there behind the counter.

“oh, um, hi,” he says, as spencer scans his items. “you work here—?”

 _stupid,_ he mentally berates himself. _of course he works here — he’s checking out your food!_

spencer smiles. “yeah, i do.” he pauses. “so, how are you?”

he shrugs. “could be better. you?”

thinking for a second, the brunet says, “i’m pretty good, actually.” then he pauses, looking at jon’s shirt before grinning. “hey, i love radiohead!”

jon glances down at his shirt, which is advertising a concert of the aforementioned band from a long time ago. he smiles, “really? they’re a great band.”

“yeah, man, they really are.” his groceries are all scanned and bagged now. “i’ll see you around?”

jon grabs the bags, nodding. “sure.”

 

when he gets home, he takes a look at the receipt. a phone number is scrawled lazily on the back and he grins.

/

jon and spencer begin to hang out after that. at first, it’s not very often — maybe on the weekend one will drop by the other’s house, with beer and pizza or a party invitation. but then it becomes more frequent, and jon finds spencer sitting in his house almost everyday.

jon really does like spencer. he’s nice and funny and almost everything that jon isn’t. but slowly, he finds that he’s beginning to like spencer more than a friend. and he’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

/

“these are all really good,” spencer says one day, staring at the various photographs hung in jon’s hallway. he turns to look at him. “are they yours?”

he nods, suddenly embarrassed. gratitude isn’t something he’s accustomed to. “um, yeah, they are.”

spencer grins. “you’re amazing! you’re going to have to show me how you do it someday.”

smiling now, he says, “yeah, of course.”

he pretends not to realise how much the compliments affected him for the rest of the day. how he walked slightly more confidently and how he had a smile on his face, thoughts only of how spencer smith likes what he does running through his mind.

/

jon is staring at spencer, who’s sunken into a chair, book held in front of him. he admires the curves of spencer’s body and the determined look on his face as he reads; he admires the hint of a smile that graces his lips as his eyes scan over a certain line and his smooth, structured face.

“what’re you looking at?” he asks, glancing up from his book with raised eyebrows.

jon smiles slightly and says, “nothing. just thinking.”

“thinking of—?” spencer prompts, setting his book down and looking at him.

“nothing, really.” but that’s a lie.

he’s thinking of how he might be in love with this man.

/

“you’re totally whipped,” tom says one night as they sit on jon’s sofa, half paying attention to a shitty movie on the tv. “you should just ask him out already.”

jon bites his lip. “really?”

his friend looks at him with a serious expression. “really.”

/

jon takes a deep breath, one hand grasping a bouquet tightly. thoughts of how to ask spencer out cloud his mind, and he tries to calm his nerves.

it doesn’t really work.

his other hand reaches up to knock on spencer’s door and he can hear someone walking up to it from the other wise. seconds later, it swings open. it’s not who he expects, though — instead, it’s an almost too thin man, with long limbs and a tiny stomach. he raises his eyebrows, eyeing the flowers in his hand. jon quickly hides them behind his back. “can i help you?”

“um, is spencer here?” he asks, voice hesitant. normally, he wouldn’t feel so awkward, but under the scrutinising gaze of this stranger, he can’t help but feel like a bumbling idiot.

the guy nods slowly, before turning to shout, “spencer, someone’s here to see you!” 

spencer appears after a couple moments, hair tousled and shirt rumpled. he smiles when he sees jon and says, “oh, hey!” then he looks at the guy next to him and says, “this is ryan. he’s my boyfriend.”

_what?_

someone might be speaking, but all jon hears is white noise. his mouth goes dry as he stares at the two people before him — it’s obvious that they’re a serious couple. spencer’s arm lingers around ryan’s waist, ryan’s head is leaned against spencer’s shoulder. as they stand there, he suddenly feels very stupid.

“oh,” is all he says. his eyes are wide. “i… i thought.” he pauses. “never mind.”

now with a broken heart to accompany him, he quickly throws the bouquet and stumbles over a farewell, before walking away, almost tripping over his feet.

how could he have been so _stupid?_

/

a year later, he stands on the sidelines of a church, next to four other men he doesn’t really know too well. they’re all watching spencer stand nervously in front of a preacher, tugging at the sleeves of his suit jacket. music begins to play throughout the church, and everyone turns to watch as ryan walks down the aisle, a smile on his lips as he stares at his lover.

awhile later, when spencer and ryan declare their ‘i do’s and lean in to kiss, a little piece of him breaks.

maybe happily ever afters just aren’t meant for him.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure how i feel about this one. not sure how i feel about any of my writing, though. thoughts?


End file.
